Getting a Word in Edgewise
by Darthishtar
Summary: Queen Lucy the Valiant faces her first diplomatic reception. Will she be able to behave herself as royalty? Between the coronation and the end of The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe.


Author's note: So, Kateydidnt challenged me to write a story involving Mr. Tumnus, a diplomatic reception and "I don't think that's quite what she meant this time." Four drafts later, this came out.

The line about stillness and humility is from _Henry V. _The one about Romeo is from, of course, _Romeo and Juliet._ "What's done is done" is spoken by Lady Macbeth. "Once more into the breach" is also from _Henry V._

Things had not always gone smoothly in the court of the High Kings and Queens of Narnia. Following the White Witch's defeat and the triumphant return of Aslan, there had been an incomparable time of peace and prosperity. Alliances had been forged, friendships had been rekindled and lands had been reclaimed. The coronation of King Peter the Magnificent, Queen Susan the Gentle, King Edmund the Just and Queen Lucy the Valiant had been cause for much celebration.

The fact remained, however, that the magnificent, gentle, just and valiant rulers of Narnia were very new to the idea of ruling. Not long ago, their minds had been plagued by thoughts of maths examinations or the war on the Continent that was now threatening to overrun Great Britain. They had been thrust into the conflict with the White Witch and comported themselves admirably, but now that the duties of monarchy were upon them, they had a rather steep learning curve. Aslan had advised them to listen to their hearts. Tumnus had suggested that they trust their instincts.

Queen Susan was the first to notice that, for High King Peter, this meant improvising. She was the one to snigger quietly into her hand after her royal brother proclaimed in praise of a subject that "In peace there 's nothing so becomes a man as modest stillness and humility." The dwarf in question had fortunately not noticed the suspicious cough that followed and once they were quite alone in the audience chamber, Queen Susan had turned with a reproachful look on King Peter.

"Oh, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?"

"Henry V, actually," Peter said mildly. "I had to declaim that speech last year. What's done is done."

That last bit must have been another quote, as Susan smiled even wider. "Are you going to borrow Shakespeare for all of your kingly duties?" she asked.

"Goodness, no," he scoffed. "I only know a few passages. But what was I to say? 'Good show. I liked the bit on the battlefield'?"

"I suppose not," Susan sighed, "but supposing we rule for sixty years. We'll have to learn to speak for ourselves _someday."_

From that day forward, she was something like their schoolmarm, mixing Shakespeare and Solomon, _Macbeth_ and Moses, to teach them high speech. At home, Peter had always been the one to help them with difficult lessons, but Queen Susan the Gentle was patient and better-suited to tasks that took many nights of study.

Tonight was to be their first real test of their abilities. It was not common to hear from distant lands, but some of the dryads had passed along word of the new regime in Cair Paravel and their far-flung cousins had sent an embassy to make a formal presentation. That had been easy enough, since they only needed to recite the Rite of Welcoming in the throne room. Afterwards, they had exchanged saplings and there had been a great deal of cheering.

They would not get off easily, though. The Narnians did like to put on a good show and that meant a party afterwards. Queen Lucy had her lines memorized for the Rite of Welcoming and such, but there had been nothing recorded in the annals of the kingdom about small talk.

"Don't fret so," Susan chided her as they made their preparations for the feast. "Don't eat anything foreign, don't go on too much and for heaven's sake, don't bite your nails when they make you nervous."

Lucy reflexively looked down at her fingers, but the nails had been trimmed neatly this morning and nothing had upset her since then. And her gown was a leafy green, carefully embroidered with vines so she might fit in with her new friends.

"But what if I don't have anything to say?" she asked plaintively.

"Then let them go on for a bit."

She wished that Aslan could have been here tonight, but as Edmund had pointed out, they couldn't expect him to turn up every time they had stage fright. They would have to act on their own tonight.

Susan coiled her hair against her head and considered her reflection for a moment before letting it fall again. "And if worst comes to worst, signal for Mr. Tumnus. I'm sure he'd be willing to come to your aid."

Susan had probably meant that comment to be kind, but after hearing many comments about her 'faun-shaped shadow.' Lucy suspected that she should not take it as a compliment. Mr. Tumnus, ever her loyal friend, was as unaccustomed to the ways of Cair Paravel as she, but like Lucy, he was _trying._

"I think I shall," she said firmly. "He _always_ has something clever to say."

True to form, Mr. Tumnus sought her out as soon as she entered what they had taken to calling the ballroom long before they held any balls there. "Queen Lucy," he said, bowing low so that his beard nearly touched the cobblestones, "I do hope that I find Your Majesty well?"

In her first days as Queen, she had giggled at the absurd formality, but those days were past. She drew herself up to her full height—she might be taller than Edmund soon—and bowed her head in response.

"Quite well, thank you, good Sir Tumnus," she replied. "I thank thee for thy attentiveness."

He winked as he completed his bow to let her know that she had kept her thees and thous straight. "If thou wilt permit me, I would like to personally introduce to thee one of our esteemed guests."

"I thank thee for thy trouble."

He strode confidently before her as if he were a royal herald and approached one of the most striking of the foreign dryads. She reminded Lucy of a weeping willow, with a rich brown skin and coils of flowry hair hanging about her face. Like Lucy, she was attired in a rich gown of green.

"Lady Iloetare, may I present to thee Queen Lucy the Valiant," Mr. Tumnus began. "Queen Lucy, may I present to thee, Lady Iloetare, Ambassador of Coemarel."

Lady Iloetare dipped a deep courtesy out of respect and Lucy responded with one that did not go quite as low. Her advisors—and Susan in particular—had impressed upon her the need to treat the dryads as friends, but inferiors. They were ambassadors, but not of the same rank as the Pevensies.

"I thank thee for thy welcome," Lady Iloetare said in a reedy voice. "Thou mayest call me Lady Ivy as I am named in thy speech."

Lucy caught herself before remarking that Professor Kirke had employed a servant named Ivy. "I thank thee, Lady Ivy," she said. "Art thou enjoying thyself?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. They say that we are to witness a performance from the Mice and they are strange creatures to me, I quite look forward to it."

"They are good friends and most enjoyable," Lucy agreed, relieved to have something to talk about. "Dost thou mean to say that thou dost not have Mice in Coemarel."

"Only in saplings' tales," Ivy chuckled. "We have not had Mice as neighbors in many years."

"Then perhaps we should send an embassy of them to thee," Lucy suggested.

To her surprise, Ivy laughed again as if she had said something terribly clever. "Perhaps. My grandfather often told me of the valiant Mice who saved us from marauding beavers generations ago. I am sure that he would like to meet some of their kind."

It was time to hold her tongue again, since not all Mice were valiant and not all beavers were evil. It might be a good idea to keep Ivy away from her beaver friends, though. Just in case there were ill feelings between the two races. A quick look 'round found that Mr. and Mrs. Beaver were deep in conversation with a centaur.

When she turned back to Ivy, she found that the ambassador was holding out a small bowl of the kind that the dwarves had been passing around for a few minutes.

"In my country, we are not true friends until we have eaten together," Ivy commented. "I believe that thou breakest bread with thy friends as well."

"Yes, that is one of the many things that we have in common," Lucy assured her. "What is this?"

Peter would have chided her for asking. Edmund would have dared her to eat it no matter the answer to her question. Susan would have steered her towards something from their own kitchens. She had just about decided to eat it no matter what when Ivy responded with a note of longing in her voice. It seemed as if she could not wait to empty her bowl.

"Topsoil."

Lucy was suddenly glad that she had not started eating already as she would have spat it out immediately. Ivy inhaled deeply as if she had been presented with a slice of Christmas pudding.

"It comes from near thy coast," she continued. "Oh, the flavors. You must try it."

"Wouldst thou excuse me for a moment?" Lucy asked in a panic. "My loyal friend Mr. Tumnus must deliver an urgent message for me."

Ivy did not look offended, but it was difficult to tell on a human-sized tree. "Yes, Your Majesty."

As soon as she retreated a few steps, Tumnus anticipated her question. "It would be impolite to decline," he hissed.

"But Susan said not to eat anything foreign," Lucy protested in a whisper.

"It's not foreign, Queen Lucy," he responded. "It's from our own coast and she would consider it a great honor if you shared a meal with her."

"But she said nothing _foreign_," Lucy protested again. "This isn't meant for Daughters of Eve?"

In her mind, her Mum chided, "How will you know until you've tried?" Mr. Tumnus simply smiled.

"Our cooks would not have passed it around if it would do you harm," he promised. "And as for foreign, I don't think that's quite what she meant this time."

It seemed inevitable that she would have to at least try it, so she smiled and quoted another of Peter's favorite lines: "Once more into the breach."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

He clomped off to tell Edmund something and Lucy returned to Ivy. "I thank thee for thy patience," she said. "I would be honored to eat with you."

They joined arms and tipped the bowls back. Once you got past the thought of eating dirt, there was a lovely taste of something like nuts and maybe oysters about it. And it smelled like lilies. She managed to swallow without pulling a face and lowered the bowl as a round of applause sounded. Ivy looked quite pleased with her diplomatic skills, but the Kings and Queen Susan looked slightly murderous at the thought that they would have to do the same.

"To new friends," Lucy said loudly.

_And to acquired tastes._

Speaking like Queen Victoria suddenly seemed to be the easier of her duties.


End file.
